


Dearly Devoted Arthur

by dogmatix



Series: The Empty Prince [2]
Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Dexter fusion, GFY, Gen, serial killer!Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 00:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is Not Happy after he meets a certain ghost from his past, and Merlin has to be the voice of reason.</p>
<p>
  <i>Right, predicting emotions was hard for Arthur.  “Yes Arthur, killing your king and your father is generally frowned upon. People would be upset.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dearly Devoted Arthur

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate take on Sins of the Father after Morgause gets done with Arthur, from Merlin's POV.

“Arthur, wait!” Merlin called out, spurring his horse to catch up with Arthur. “Arthur!”

The prince reined in his horse as Merlin cut his own across the path. Merlin looked at the rigid control that all but vibrated through Arthur’s solid frame, and the flat, implacable expression on his face, and felt his stomach turn over uneasily. “What are you planning to do?”

Morgause had shown Arthur the circumstances of his birth, and Merlin simply didn’t know which way Arthur would jump. He was obviously affected, but ascribing normal motives to Arthur didn’t always work.

“I’m going to kill my father.”

Well, that made a certain sort of Arthurian sense. “Why?”

“He betrayed my mother. He is responsible for the unjust death of hundreds of Camelot’s citizens. He deserves no less than my full attention.” Arthur’s eyes were flat, predatory, and Merlin felt a shiver trickle down his spine; Arthur’s ‘full attention’ tended to last a lot longer than you’d think a human body would take to die from those sorts of injuries. But where there was usually an air of eager anticipation before a Hunt, now there was only cold rage spilling out of the tight downturn of Arthur’s mouth, the clenched curl of his fingers on the reins, his harsh breathing. 

Part of Merlin wanted nothing more than to stand aside and let him do it. Betrayal always scared Arthur, and unjust actions towards Camelot enraged him. Uther was suddenly walking around with a bulls-eye painted on his chest, as far as Arthur was concerned.

“Arthur,” oh gods why was he doing this? It wasn’t like _he_ wanted Uther alive, “you can’t kill your father.”

Arthur looked at him in honest confusion. “Why not?”

Merlin squashed his first impulse to tell Arthur that no matter what, Uther was still his dad, because that would carry very little weight with Arthur even on a good day. Now, it was unlikely to be even slightly helpful. “Who knows if Morgause was even telling the truth? She’s no friend to you, or to Camelot – she’s working towards her own ends. And even if it truly was your mother in there, don’t you think Morgause planned this? Don’t you see, she _wants_ you to go after your father.”

Arthur didn’t look in the least pleased, but he stopped, frowning. Thinking, thank the gods. “You think she was lying?”

“I don’t know. She could have been, or she could have been telling only part of the truth, or all of the truth but in the worst possible light. Whatever the case, she doesn’t want anything good for Camelot, or the Pendragons. Maybe you killing your father is exactly what she’s aiming for.”

More thinking. “But she doesn’t know I’m a monster. Would a normal son have wanted to kill his father?”

Merlin made himself continue past the ache in his chest. “You have a reputation for having something of a temper and a strong sense of justice. So it’s possible she’s hoping for it, yes.”

“And,” Merlin added reluctantly as the thought occurred to him, “if you kill Uther, it wouldn’t exactly be the best way to start your reign.”

That gave Arthur pause. “Are you sure?” he asked, sounding half unsure and half surprised.

Right, predicting emotions was hard for Arthur. “Yes Arthur, killing your king and your father is generally frowned upon. People would be upset.”

“Oh.” Arthur sighed heavily, and Merlin could almost see the hunger for death and blood being tucked carefully away behind the well-polished masks again. “Very well, my father will live. But,” Arthur continued, staring at Merlin with grim, determined eyes, “nobody else dies on accusation of sorcery alone, true or not, by my blade or by the pyre. I will not allow it.”

Merlin found himself with the strange urge to hug his beautiful, empty prince, who tried so hard. “Anything I can do, you have only to ask.”

Arthur’s mask flowed into a grin. “Well I knew _that_ , _Mer_ lin. You are mine to command, after all.”

It was too fast a recovery from Arthur’s earlier rage, but Arthur wouldn’t understand that, so Merlin only shook his head and dredged up a grin of his own. “You mean boss around, don’t you?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Of course, sire, of course,” Merlin let their easy back-and-forth fall over them as they rode for Camelot at a more sedate pace. Uther owed his life to a sorcerer. Oh the irony.


End file.
